


floating like a vapor

by diarahans



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (sort of), Confused pining, Dreams, Future Fic, Gen, M/M, Slow Build, Teenage Drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-04-17 13:35:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4668551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diarahans/pseuds/diarahans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hard for Kageyama to reconcile the person in his dreams (Kei, a little prickly even when he's sweet, holds his hand) with the person that he sees at school everyday (Tsukishima, cold and distant, won't touch him at all), but sometimes if he's not paying attention, he'll forget that there's any difference between them at all. </p>
<p>"Is there something wrong, your highness?" Tsukishima sneers when he catches Kageyama watching him during practice.</p>
<p>"No," Kageyama says, shifting his focus to the space in between his shoes instead. "It's nothing."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. dream 1: not your roommate (18, tokyo)

**Author's Note:**

> Well I guess you answer one domesticity meme for a ship on tumblr and then they eat you whole oops. 
> 
> Title comes from "I Dream of Jeannie" (which...okay, self.) Also this premise is vaguely inspired by this fic ([x](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4607967)) which is from a fandom way far from here (also RPF tw if that's something you don't want to see).

"How do you keep getting into my room?"

Kageyama doesn't bother to look up from the volleyball magazine that he's reading, shifting so that the thin dorm mattress is more comfortable under his stomach. "Welcome back," he says, turning to an article about the rising stars of Japan’s international team. “Also, I’ve had your spare key for about a month now since you lent it to me at practice that one time to get something from your room.”

“Yeah, and people usually return them when they’re done,” Tsukishima says as he shuts the door of his dorm room with a soft click. His voice is a tired sigh today, and his words lack their natural bite, softened by the weariness of a long day of classes. “Why are you here anyway?”

“It’s not like you need it right now,” Kageyama says, turning over onto his side so he can watch Tsukishima put away his bag and shrug off his jacket. It’s one of Tsukishima’s heavier coats so he was probably in the ice-cold biology lab today. “It’s the spare, not your main key.”

“Doesn’t explain why you’re here,” Tsukishima says, voice slightly muffled, as he hangs up his coat in the sliver of space his dorm room offers as a closet. “Again, I might add. This is the third time I’ve come back from class to find you here this week, and it’s only Wednesday.” Stepping away from the closet, Tsukishima turns to face him and frowns. “Did you lose your key again or something?”

“Sato put one of the desk chairs under the handle of the door,” Kageyama says, eyebrows drawing down as he remembers the slight, “so I couldn’t get in.” He turns back onto his stomach and frowns down at the now uninteresting magazine spread across the pillow. It’s utterly unfair that someone like Tsukishima could snag one of the coveted single rooms in the dorm, while Kageyama is stuck with a roommate who bars the door from his own damn room.

“Did you do something nasty to him in his sleep or what?” Tsukishima asks, his mouth curving into a smirk. Crossing the short distance to his bed, he gives Kageyama a mock reproving look and clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Tobio, just because you’re having issues with someone doesn’t mean you should retaliate with pranks and bad behavior. Just look at Tanaka-san’s photos from last year for how well that usually turns out.”

“I haven’t done anything,” Kageyama huffs out, irritated. Tsukishima bumps a knee against his side, lightly for now, and obligingly, he rolls out of the way so there’s enough room for Tsukishima to sit. “He’s the one who’s always messy and loud and bringing his girlfriend over all the time. It’s like living with two other people instead of just one!”

“Oh man, the king got sexiled, didn’t he?” Tsukishima says, laughing a little as he sits down on the bed. “Is that what’s been happening all week?”

“Stop calling me that,” Kageyama replies automatically. He flips onto his back, shoving Tsukishima a little in the process and scowls up at that irritating grinning face. It’s a little mean for a smile, but that’s nothing new. “And yes? I don’t know anymore. They keep arguing about something stupid like her birthday or his birthday or whatever. Does it really even matter when there’s more important things in life? Like dinner! Or volleyball!”

“Woooow,” Tsukishima drawls. His eyes widen in surprise, but like with most gestures he makes, it has zero sincerity. “‘Dinner! Or volleyball!’ It’s no surprise a simpleminded idiot like you isn’t in a relationship right now.” With a roll of his eyes, Tsukishima reaches out and flicks Kageyama right in the middle of his forehead. “No wonder your roommate locks you out.”

Kageyama yelps, pulling away right as Tsukishima’s fingers make contact. “What the hell, you four-eyed bastard! Dinner and volleyball are important! You definitely think so too even if you try to hide it behind that shitty personality of yours.” Kageyama sniffs and pushes the offending fingers away with a scowl. “Your fingers are _freezing_ , by the way.”

“Surprisingly enough that’s what happens when it’s November and cold outside,” Tsukishima says with a roll of his eyes. A sneer crosses over his face, but Kageyama can tell that it’s joking for the most part. “You should say thanks for people more selfless and kinder than a despot king such as yourself, your highness. I could be kicking you out right now, but all you have to deal with is some cold fingers.” He curves his fingers under Kageyama’s chin and grins when there’s a  minuscule flinch from the boy lying on his bed.

“Stop calling me that,” Kageyama repeats, “or I’ll start calling you princess.” Tsukishima’s fingers, ice cold only a few seconds before, are gradually starting to warm up, and even though Kageyama can barely bear to even think the the thought - they almost feel nice against his skin.

“Try it,” Tsukishima says, his eyes going half-lidded and darkening as he bends his body over Kageyama’s. The fingers that were lightly touching his chin have now moved to cup it in a deceptively soft grip. “And see what I’ll do.”

Kageyama stiffens at the mocking tone, and whatever weird emotion that came over him at the sight of those golden eyes above him is pushed away by pure irritation. Growling under his breath, he grabs the hand under his chin and --

Kageyama wakes up to the incessant beeping of his alarm, the sound pulling him out of his dream. It’s early enough that the sun is only on the bare edge of rising, and in the darkness of his room, everything seems muffled and far away. It takes him a minute or two longer than usual to silence his alarm.

The details of whatever dream he was having fade away the more he wakes up until he’s just left with the impressions of _Tsukishima_ and _cold_ and much smaller, a frisson of tingling apprehension.The sensations linger around his body and make him itch a little, like his limbs aren’t quite where they’re supposed to be. It’s a strange and disorienting feeling.

Just a weird dream, Kageyama thinks, shaking himself a little as he gets out of bed to get the strange feeling off. It’s probably nothing. Probably just _thinking_ about a frigid bastard like Tsukishima does that to you.

Outside his bedroom window, the sky lightens more and more as the sun rises, while he gets ready for the day, pushing the dream to the back of his mind until it’s nearly forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi ao3 is being ?? so here's a new note. i drew the pic specifically for the fic and it took forever but i like it? 
> 
> oh and if you wanna talk, i'm on tumblr @yasoinabas or @karasuno!


	2. dreams 2-4: courtship tips for fools (18-20, tokyo)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kageyama goes to school, goes home, and dreams of Tsukishima again. Unfortunately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter almost 4x as long as the first and took me basically 100x as long to write aaaah. Also hi! thanks to everyone who read/commented/etc!!! You're all great!

The dream doesn’t bother Kageyama when he’s leaving his house and calling out a farewell to his mother, who returns it faintly from the kitchen. It doesn’t cross his mind when he’s racing towards the gate of the school - just a hairs breadth after Hinata crosses over - or during the ensuing tussle that occurs and  ends with their uniforms crooked and dirt smudged. They’re early for school, but the vice-principal is even earlier, his enraged body quivering in the morning sun.

The lecture the vice-principal gives him and Hinata, along with the man’s disastrous excuse for a hairpiece, is overly long today, and Kageyama finds himself distracted by thoughts of lunch and the quiz he’s probably going to only get half-marks on later in the day. As the vice-principal waxes poetic about moral integrity and Hinata nods along at random intervals, Kageyama stares off at a point in the distance slightly to the left and wonders if he could find some curry bread for lunch or if he'll have to settle for yakisoba again. There’s no room for thoughts about a strange dream.

In class, the girl in the seat next to his asks to borrow a pencil, her voice a quiet and nervous murmur. It takes her four tries before Kageyama can understand what she’s saying and another minute before he can pull out a pencil for her.

"Speak up next time," he says bluntly and just a touch too loud. His contemporary lit teacher smacks him on the head with the novel they're currently discussing causing the class to twitter quietly at his expense.

At lunch, he eats yakisoba with Hinata (there never seems to be any curry bread unfortunately), both of them in a race to see who can finish faster, and the only thing on his mind is complete domination. His stomach aches by the end of the lunch hour, but the headiness of victory numbs the pain a bit and carries him happily through the rest of his classes.

The dream is all but forgotten, really, and then - practice comes, and with it a whole slew of new problems. Tsukishima, who Kageyama hasn't seen all day, is suddenly only a few feet away in the locker room as everyone changes for practice, and it leaves him feeling unsettled and off-balance.

He still doesn’t really remember most of the details of the dream, but the sight of Tsukishima brings an itch under his shoulders that starts off as a slight tingle and only gets worse - like the strange sensation that plagued him earlier when he first woke up, but ten times worse. Kageyama stares at his tall frame and lean back for a minute or two before he snaps himself out of it. Clenching his fists and turning his back, Kageyama breathes deeply for a few moments and gathers his wits so he doesn’t do something ridiculous like grab Tsukishima and make him touch his face like his body is telling him to do.

Even with his back turned, Kageyama can still feel Tsukishima's presence across the room, a buzzing weight that settles uncomfortably against him. Tsukishima's voice, pitched low, comments on some joke Yamaguchi makes, and it distracts Kageyama enough as he's pulling his undershirt over his head that he ends with if halfway over his head for a good twenty seconds before he realizes what he's doing.

He’s just being more annoying than usual, Kageyama thinks, roughly pulling his shirt the rest of the way off. There's no way a stupid dream about stupid Tsukishima is actually affecting him this much.

"Kageyama!" Hinata yells. He had jumped right before he spoke so unfortunately it's directly into Kageyama's ear. "Stop spacing out! Hurry up and change so we can get to practice!" The locker room is empty save for the two of them and Hinata is already changed while he’s still only half-undressed, his shirt clutched tightly in his hand.

“Go on without me,” he says, quickly turning away and shaking himself out of his reverie. “I’ll be there in a minute.” Kageyama strips out of the rest of his school uniform and tugs on his gym shorts and t-shirt, staring resolutely at the grey metal of the lockers to avoid thinking of something dangerous, like a certain blond teammate.

When he finishes and turns to leave, to his surprise Hinata is still in the room, watching him with a unusually serious look on his face. “What?” he says, a little unnerved at Hinata’s scrutinizing gaze. “I can change without you around you know. Why didn’t you leave?”

“Are you feeling alright?” Hinata says, hopping up onto the bench so that he’s looking down at Kageyama instead of the other way around. He leans closer to stare at Kageyama’s face, squinting a little as if that helps at all. “You’ve been acting kind of weird since we got to the locker room.”

Kageyama's back stiffens at that. Did Hinata catch him watching Tsukishima earlier?

“Was it because of all the yakisoba at lunch today?” asks Hinata, oblivious. “It must have been that last half where you shoveled it into your mouth too quickly. Not everything is a competition you know! You should take care when you eat!”

Despite his incredulity at Hinata of all people telling him to be less competitive, Kageyama latches onto the flimsy excuse anyway. “Victory is worth any sort of strangeness and discomfort,” he says with a delicate sniff lifted from an actress in one of the dramas his mom likes to watch after dinner. "You're just jealous because I'm better than you at everything." With that admittedly pretty weak retort, he hastily exits the locker with Hinata's angry yelps following on his heels.

Practice goes...well, it's not the worst that Kageyama has ever played but it's in the top ten at the very least. Tsukishima, normally a mostly mild irritant or generally irrelevant outside of a particular set or tactic, is now a near constant presence in his mind. His physical proximity on the court just makes the itch in Kageyama's fingers and back that much stronger, and it's distracting in a way that he's never experienced before.

"Is the king slacking off today?" Tsukishima says when Kageyama flubs a receive and tumbles to the ground. The glare off of his glasses gives him an even more disdainful look than usual. From Kageyama’s position on the gym floor, he looks like an untouchable giant. “Better start shaping up or even commoners will blow you away."

Kageyama keeps his mouth clamped shut and turns his head away, scowling. It’s not like he can just say, _“It’s your fault”_ or _“If you’d just touch me, I’d feel better.”_

“I’m fine,” he announces when he feels upperclassmen’s curious gazes on him. He pushes himself back to his feet, ignoring Hinata’s outstretched hand. “I’m sorry for the interruption.”

_What a stupid dream_ , Kageyama thinks, his teeth clenched tightly together, _and what a fucking pain that four-eyed asshole is_. If his sets are just a bit more forceful and and a little less accurate today, no one says anything about it.

 

* * *

 

His dad still isn't home from his business trip in Kanagawa so it's just Kageyama and his mom again tonight. He knows that she had planned to make katsudon, but something on his face or some innate mom sense had her putting the ingredients she had laid out away and pulling out what she needed to make curry instead.

“Tobio,” she calls as he’s going up the stairs to put away his bag. “Come down when you’re done and help your mom with dinner, okay?”

“Okaaay” he calls as he bounds the rest of the way up the stairs. Curry is curry, no matter the reason behind it so he finishes up as quickly as possible and hurries into the kitchen where his mom is setting up all the ingredients on the counter top.  

"How was your day?" she asks, turning to watch him as he lines up the onions, carrots, and potatoes neatly on the cutting board. “Was practice okay?”

"It was fine," he says, ignoring the careless mistakes he had made in practice today as well as his general unease the last few hours. Kageyama moves the knife with practiced ease, slicing the onions deftly and precisely.  He’s not so great with the actual cooking aspect yet, but prep work is easy enough now. "Everyone's been working really hard and we've gotten a lot better since summer vacation."

“What about...who was it? Hinata? How is he?”

“Hinata’s fine,” Kageyama says, frowning when he cut down too quickly. The potatoes will be slightly lopsided size wise, but whatever. “Still a dumbass, though, and pretty awful at volleyball, but he’s getting better too, thank goodness.”

“Language,” she chides, smacking his shoulder with the palm of her hand. "I'm glad that you're being friendlier now though. It's good that you have a friend in your grade.”

“We’re just teammates,” he protests.

“Of course,” she says with a click of her tongue, like she doesn’t believe him, but is too nice to call him out. “And everything is okay with everyone else on the team, too?”

“Yes,” he says quickly, focusing his attention on the vegetables in front of him. He could talk about Sugawara-san and his kindness or Tanaka and Nishinoya-san’s brash enthusiasm and wild skill, or maybe even Yachi and how she’ll help out in her own way at practice, but the only name in his mouth right now is Tsukishima, who is a four-eyed jerk haunting his dreams and who can’t even be bothered to call Kageyama by his name.  “Everyone’s fine.”

“Okay, okay,” says his mom with a little laugh at the end. “I won’t badger you about this anymore. Do you want to help with the cooking too, or is prep enough for tonight?”

Last time Kageyama tried to cook curry, it ended up over salted and halfway burnt. “I want to be able to eat tonight,” he says, handing the bowl of chopped vegetables over to his mom. 

“Alright,” she says, amused, “but come and watch me while I cook. Maybe it’ll help you get a hang of it for next time.”

Dinner is good, like it always is when they’re having curry, and Kageyama eats heartily like usual. For a little while, everything is normal again, and he feels good enough to ask for seconds and thirds until his mom swats his hand away.

"Everything is okay, right?" his mom asks later as she takes his plate and spoon and sets them down to soak in the sink.

“I’m fine,” Kageyama says, bending down a little so his mom can cup her hand under his cheek. A flash of the previous day’s dream - of Tsukishima’s slim fingers curling under his chin - chases after him suddenly, and the two sensations are so similar that he feels himself inadvertently tensing.

Taking a deep breath, he forces himself to meet his mother’s searching gaze instead of focusing on the ground and repeats, “I’m fine.” He tries to smile, but from her slightly amused face, he’s pretty sure it’s not much better than his other attempts.

The sigh that she releases is only a mere wisp of breath, nearly silent. "Of course," she says, lightly patting his cheek. "Just remember that if you need to talk, you can always come to me or your dad."

He nods though this isn't something that he can even imagine talking to his parents about. "I'm going to bathe now if that’s okay."

"Alright," his mom says. She still looks like she wants to ask him something again, but nothing else comes. "Don't fall asleep in the tub again okay?"

"I won't!"

Later, when he curls under the covers that night, warm and clean from his bath, it's to thoughts of volleyball and what he's going to do in practice tomorrow - nothing else. There's no place for a tall blonde with too shiny glasses, and Kageyama falls asleep easily.  

* * *

Kageyama struggles to hold in his smile, and when that fails he quickly ducks his head so that his upperclassmen won’t see. They all seem to appreciate his skill and work ethic, but it’s still a bit too soon for him to act so excited around them - even if it was a pretty spectacular set just now.

"Damn, Kageyama," their vice captain says with a laugh. The seniors on the other side of the net are still slack-jawed at the combination attack that he and Tsukishima just pulled off. "If that's what being high school classmates lets you do then I totally wish I had gone to school with you!"

He's shaking just the tiniest bit, too, probably imperceptible to the eye but he can feel it readily enough. It might just be practice, but a good play is still a good play, and the rush that follows is always genuine. "That was awesome," he says to Tsukishima, his voice only a bare huff.

“The king praising himself like always, huh?” Tsukishima drawls. His eyes are amused, though, glinting brightly underneath his sports glasses and corner of his mouth is slightly quirked. It's the closest to a smile that Kageyama will get while they're on the court, and by now it's enough to leave him satisfied.

“It was you, too,” he says. With Hinata following in Kozume-san's footsteps for university, there's no longer any supernatural quick set or any other truly wild aerial attack, but him and Tsukishima have a rapport born of years of experience together now that leads to things that may be even better. "We're good together."  

"Oi lovebirds!" their captain yells. “Stop flirting and get back to work! People who slack off in practice will never even get to dream about starting in a game!”

"Urameshi-san, you insult me," Tsukishima says to their captain as they rotate positions. "I'd definitely have better taste in romantic partners than an idiot like Kageyama."

"Hey!" Kageyama yells, but it’s too late for an argument now as practice starts up again.

* * *

“Aah, wait,” says Kageyama, clutching at the back of Tsukishima’s jacket to keep him from moving. He pushes his face into Tsukishima’s shoulder as a wave of dizziness washes over him. Tsukishima’s jacket is soft under his cheek, and he rubs his cheek against it muzzily as he tries to get his head to stop spinning. He really didn’t mean to drink so much, but the upperclassmen kept pushing more cups at him and the women’s team was there celebrating too....it just got out of hand way too quickly.

“If you puke on me,” Tsukishima says, enunciating very clearly so that it penetrates through Kageyama’s muddled state, “I’ll leave you in an alleyway to die.” He stays still, though, and blearily Kageyama turns his head to see Tsukishima’s hair shine almost white under the streetlight.

“M’not gonna puke,” Kageyama says, though he's not quite certain that that's quite true. He swallows carefully, and when nothing tries to come back up, repeats it again. “M’not gonna puke.”

“You better not,” Tsukishima sighs. “Anyway, get yourself together, king. If we hurry we'll be able to make the next train instead of having to wait another twenty minutes."

"Don't call me that," Kageyama mumbles automatically, but he straightens up and blinks rapidly in the chilly night air to regain his bearings again.

The train station is nearly deserted this time of night, but even without the crowds of people to navigate around, they’re still running just slightly behind and make it onto the train right as the doors slide shut, nearly catching Kageyama’s unwinding scarf. Their train car is empty, at least, and they sit down in one of the many empty seats.

"Go to sleep," Tsukishima says when he sees Kageyama listing to the side as he tries to stay awake. He's eyeing him with a vague sort of concern and frowning just the slightest bit.  "I'll wake you up when it's our stop."

"You won't leave me here?" Kageyama asks, suddenly worried. There was a tense moment on the bus last year when their team was travelling for a competition, and...

"No," says Tsukishima with a sigh. "If I was going to leave you, I would've done it back at the bar instead making the effort to drag your ass back even this far." There’s a brief moment of hesitation, but then Tsukishima tugs Kageyama down until his head is pillowed on his shoulder. “Just go to sleep, okay?”

"Okay," Kageyama sighs, eyes slipping shut. He really is tired. “Thanks, Tsukki.” Whatever reply Tsukishima has is lost to the darkness.

* * *

 

“Mom,” Kageyama says, patiently, “please stop laughing at me.”

“When did my Tobio become such a good caretaker?” she says, still laughing. He can hear his dad’s questioning voice in the background, tinny over the phone. “What recipe did you want, hmm?”

“A soup recipe,” he says, “for someone who’s sick.”

“For a girlfriend?” his dad asks, overpowering whatever his mom was going to say.

“For a teammate - um, a friend, I mean,” Kageyama says, feeling a little awkward. “He made me soup when I was sick last month, so um, I wanted to return the favor.” It had taken a full day of mocking from Tsukishima, but he had eventually come over to Kageyama’s dorm with a container of soup, obviously homemade since it tasted about ten times better than anything in the cafeteria and wasn’t anything that was available in the nearby restaurants.

“Oh, who was this?” his mom says. He can hear his dad being shooed away in the background.  Tsuki-something - Tsukiyama-kun?”

“Tsukishima,” Kageyama corrects.

“Oh, Tsukishima! I remember him!” his mom exclaims. “Your high school friend, right? Well, I have just the recipe for you - it’s easy, but very filling. Do you have a paper and pen ready?”

“Give me a minute,” he says, sandwiching his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he digs around his desk for a pen and a stray scrap of paper. “Okay, I’m ready.”

His mom rattles off a list of ingredients and instructions, heavy on the details so he won’t be able to mess up even if he tried, for a few minutes. “Got it?” she asks.

“Yes,” he says, skimming over the heavily scribbled page and underlining certain points that he thinks might be more important. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, honey,” she says. “Call me if you need any help, okay?”

“I will,” Kageyama assures, after a few farewells, he hangs up the phone. He looks over at the list of ingredients scribbled down and glances at his alarm clock. It’s 5:00PM. If he hurried, he could probably get all the ingredients and make the soup today in time for dinner.

An hour and a half later, Kageyama emerges successful if slightly singed (the stove is a little finicky) from the dorm’s communal kitchenette and carefully makes his way down to Tsukishima’s room down at the end of the hall. He’s in another single this year, but with his own private bathroom as well.

“What the hell are you doing?” Tsukishima growls raspily as he opens his door. He looks like a mess with too red cheeks and heavy circles under his eyes. Kageyama doesn’t have Tsukishima’s spare key this year and couldn’t use his hands to knock anyway since he’s holding the bowl, so started kicking at the door in hopes of being let in.

“I made you soup,” he says, holding out the blue bowl like a peace offering.

For a second, it seems like Tsukishima is about to slam the door in his face, but then he sighs and shuffles out of the way to let Kageyama in. “Get in here.”

Tsukishima curls back up on his messy bed, leaving Kageyama to sit at his desk. “Give it here,” he says, pulling his blanket around his shoulders. “I might as well try it. Haven’t eaten much all day in any case.”

Kageyama hands the bowl to Tsukishima carefully, making sure nothing spills and it’s settled in his lap in a way that won’t be jostled. He’s a little nervous now, actually. Kageyama’s cooked before - certainly gotten better than he was way back in high school and burning everything - but he’s never really cooked for anyone else before.

He watches Tsukishima closely as he swirls the spoon through the bowl, pass noodles and chicken and a number of vegetables. Slowly, Tsukishima scoops up a spoonful, blows carefully, and takes a bite. Kageyama is nearly frozen with anticipation.

“It’s good,” Tsukishima says when he catches Kageyama watching him expectantly. “Surprisingly, considering you made it” he adds and Kageyama scowls. Figures it was too much to expect a sincere compliment from this bastard.

He takes another sip of the hot broth and sighs deeply as the warmth seeps into his body. “Thanks, though. It really is good.” Tsukishima's golden eyes are half-lidded as they watch Kageyama, and he feels a -

* * *

 

Kageyama wakes up abruptly to a hand shaking his shoulder and his mother's worried gaze. His alarm clock is still beeping intermittently, and the display reads 7:40AM; sunlight is already streaming brightly through his window. He can’t remember the last time he overslept this much.

"It's not like you to oversleep like this," his mom says. The back of her hand goes to his forehead, testing for a temperature. "Did you catch a bug? You don't feel hot, but...."

"Sorry," he says, running a hand through his hair and scrubbing roughly at his face. “I guess I was more tired last night than I thought.” “It’s good,” dream!Tsukishima had said just before he woke up, and Kageyama feels a strange shiver run through his body as he remembers it.

Tsukishima’s face, amused, irritated, and in that last scene - with the slightest hint of some kind of warmth lurking in his eyes,  shines bright and clear despite Kageyama’s best efforts. What the hell, he thinks, eyes squeezing shut. What the fuck is happening to me.

"Do you want to stay home today?" says his mom, pulling him out of his reverie. She looks worried still and keeps scanning his face for what - he’s not particularly sure, a visible sign of illness maybe.

Kageyama shakes his head and pulls himself out of bed. "I’m fine.” The familiar refrain of what he told her last night rings even more falsely this morning, but he doesn’t know what else to say. In the end, it all just boils down to some weird dreams. The look on her face tells him that she doesn’t quite believe him, but she doesn’t push the matter anymore.

“Alright,” she says, pushing herself off his bed. “If you’re not feeling well later on while you’re at school, though, I want you to come straight home instead of going to practice, okay?”

“Okay,” he says, even though he’ll be going to practice regardless of how he feels. If he loses volleyball to these dreams - to Tsukishima of all people...well, he’s not going to let it come to that. “I’m going to get ready for school now.”

“I’ll go pack up your breakfast so you can eat it on the way,” she says, patting him on the shoulder as she passes him to go out of his room. Before she can leave, his mom stops and looks back at him for a few long seconds. Kageyama waits expectantly for her to say something, but in the end, she just sighs and heads down the stairs.

Kageyama gets out of bed quickly after that, going to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth. When he’s in the middle of changing into his uniform, he’s suddenly hit by an alarming thought and lets out a frustrated groan.

“Damn. Hinata definitely beat me to school today…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you dream about falling asleep? is that like...going into another level of a dream like in the inception movie? WHO KNOWS........ 
> 
> ANYWAY, chapter 3 probably won't be as long but we'll be seeing more of the other club members and etc! i'm back to school now (so suffering), but i'll try to update every week (and a half) or so!
> 
> also if anyone wants to see a timeline of when each dream takes place, i'll be updating a list ([here](http://www.yasoinabas.tumblr.com/dreamt)) after every dream sequence!


	3. food poisoning (among other delusions)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this got done later than i expected so sorry!! and thanks to everyone reading!! (ؑᵒᵕؑ̇ᵒ)◞✧

“Kageyama,” his teacher says with a nod in his direction. “How about you answer this one - what document does the beginning of Fukuzawa Yukichi’s Gakumon no Susume reference?” There’s some quickly stifled laughter from the back of the classroom, and a girl who sits in the middle of the classroom places her hand back down onto her desk with a frown.

“The American Declaration of Independence,” Kageyama replies promptly. It was the third thing mentioned in class, and for once, he had been focused on the lecture all period insteading of drifting off. His notes are even neat and orderly today, carefully divided by subject matter - Yachi would probably be proud if she saw them.

“That’s correct.” There’s a trace amount of surprise in his teacher’s voice, but it’s quickly covered. “I’m glad you’ve been paying attention; keep it up. Now, let’s discuss why…”

Kageyama ignores the looks that his classmates throw his way and copies down the notes on the board diligently. Turns out that you can learn quite a bit if you dedicate all your focus towards school work instead of letting your thoughts wander to other things like lunch or volleyball or stupid dreams of four-eyed bastards who let you sleep on their shoulders and say things like it’s good in a voice that’s -

He jabs himself roughly in the hand with his pen to wash away the image of a sick and sleepy-eyed Tsukishima out of his head with an influx of pain, ignoring the shocked squeak of the girl sitting next to him and gets back to work.

Kageyama tries to keep up with all the material in class - he really does, but despite his best efforts, he finds himself drifting away an hour or two later. Irritatingly enough, everything seems to keep being pulled back to Tsukishima. Even volleyball, which he can usually compartmentalize into moves and strategies rather than people, is inundated with thoughts of Tsukishima.

They had played well together in the dream, Kageyama knows. The flushed feeling of pride and excitement at a well-placed attack between teammates was unmistakeable, even if he’s only felt it fleetingly before. Experiencing with Azumane-san, or Tanaka-san, or even stupid Hinata is one thing, but Tsukishima is...

It’s probably just something I ate, Kageyama thinks with a rough shake of his head to clear his wayward thoughts. A bad bowl of yakisoba or a sketchy piece of nikuman must have warped his mind into dreaming about Tsukishima. He really can’t see any other plausible explanation.

When he returns to his notes, half-finished and littered with doodles now as usual, one particular scribble catches his eye. It doesn’t really stand out from the rest of the what he’s drawn in his notebook, but in the far margins of his literature notes is a small, messy sketch of a pair of glasses.

He stabs his pen down violently into his notebook when he sees, marring the drawing and his notes in the process as well. He gets called on to answer another question (“What is the kigo for autumn?”) for the disruption and gets the answer completely wrong.

‘The kigo for autumn is -’ he had written and in place of the correct answer, there’s just a incomprehensible scribble. He flips to a clean page even though there’s still space on the one before and restarts his notes for this class. A boy in the back row answers correctly (brisk), and Kageyama copies down the answer diligently. He spends the rest of the class with his eyes firmly locked on the blackboard, thoughts pushed firmly towards the lecture and nothing else.

It almost works.

 

* * *

 

“I BEAT YOU THIS MORNING!” Hinata yells, tumbling into Kageyama’s classroom at lunch time. He trips over a desk and one of Kageyama’s classmates when he’s halfway across the room, but saves himself with a quick thinking somersault. Hopping up onto Kageyama's desk, he declares, “I’m winning now, and this is just the first taste of your ultimate defeat!”

Kageyama scowls and shoves Hinata off his desk. Hinata goes down with a tumble and a high pitched yelp, which is nearly the same as the one Kageyama's aunt's tiny dog makes when startled. They're about the same size, too.

"Shut up," Kageyama growls, irritated. “You only beat me because I was -” He snaps his mouth shut before something incriminating can slip out. He’s already having a hard enough time without dragging a dumbass like Hinata into it, too.

“Ehhh, because you were what?” Hinata asks, sitting on top of the desk next to Kageyama’s. “Did you have diarrhea this morning or something?”

“That’s just you,” Kageyama says with a scowl, ignoring Hinata's various explanations about supposed diarrhea remedies. "And it's not going to stay that way for long. I'm definitely beating you tomorrow."

Hinata glares at him and is resolutely opening his mouth for what Kageyama assumes to be a righteous and ultimately terrible lecture, but he's quickly cut off.

“Ah, Hinata, Kageyama,” Yamaguchi calls from the doorway of the classroom, interrupting Hinata before he can badger Kageyama anymore. “There you guys are. I have a message from Shimizu-san to pass on to you two.”

“Yamaguchi!” Hinata says brightly, waving him over. When he sees who’s trailing behind Yamaguchi, though, his smile quickly twists in a frown. “Tsukishima too, huh?”

Kageyama tenses as the two other first years approach his desk, his grip on his still open notebook tightening. He wasn't supposed to see Tsukishima until practice at the earliest.

“Oh,” Tsukishima says, looking around in feigned confusion. “What’s this? I feel like someone is calling my name, but this far up, it really does get hard to pay attention to anything below my knees.” He only laughs at Hinata’s strangled outraged yell. Yamaguchi looks torn between laughing along with Tsukishima and actually doing what he came by for.

"Hinata, no!" Yamaguchi yelps, scrambling to pull Hinata back as he launches himself at a smirking Tsukishima who easily sidesteps and let's both Hinata and Yamaguchi tumble to the ground.

“Hey, what’s with you, king?” Tsukishima asks, looking at him with a raised brow as Yamaguchi calms Hinata down off to the side. “You’re quiet today.” The lazy curve of his mouth is filled with mockery.

Kageyama looks at this Tsukishima - same face (eyes still gold and slightly lowered), voice ( _It's good_ , he hears again like some kind of broken record on loop), and posture as the one his dreams - and feels a strange twist in his stomach. It’s not the same at all - this Tsukishima is all prickly standoffishness as always, without any of his dream self's kindness to temper his barbs - but that doesn't stop Kageyama from wanting... _something_. He's not sure what, but it's like a prickly itch under his skin, insidious and pervasive.

“I have to go,” Kageyama says abruptly, tearing his gaze away from Tsukishima's now overly familiar face. Inexplicably, he feels his cheeks heating up and ducks his head down to hide it.  "I have a thing. With someone." Hastily, he haphazardly shoves the rest of his books into his bag and shoulders past a now upright Hinata to make a beeline for the classroom door.

“Ah, but Kageyama I still have to tell you about what Shimizu-san said!” Yamaguchi calls after him as he makes his way through the classroom to the door. Kageyama ignores him and just walks faster.

“Yamaguchi! Kageyama has diarrhea right now! It’s best to just leave him alone!” Hinata declares, much too loudly, and it’s the last thing Kageyama hears before he darts down the hallway, trying to get as far as possible.

 _Just some bad food_ , he thinks desperately, cheeks brushed with red. _Nothing else._

 

* * *

 

Practice is -  well, better than yesterday, at least, but only because Tsukishima is on the other side on the net the whole time, making him much easier to ignore. He’s still not up to his usual standards, though, and it’s getting more and more obvious as practice goes on.

It’s too high, Kageyama thinks with a jerk as he sets the ball. The trajectory is completely wrong for what should be a simple set, but it’s too late now. The ball sails through the air, and when Hinata jumps up to spike it down, his hand meets nothing but air, the ball clipping him upside the chin instead.

“What the hell, Kageyama!” Hinata yelps as he tumbles to the ground. He rubs at his chin desolately. “That hurt, you know!”

“It’s your fault for not paying attention, dumbass!” he shouts back, flustered. It’s the second time in the past hour that he’s flubbed a set now, and it’s starting to wear down on his nerves.

“KAGEYAMA,” Nishinoya yells, sprinting towards him at full tilt. Kageyama’s too slow to react and ends up with a sprightly upperclassman dragging him down by the neck. “What are you doing!! Pay attention!” A roar from Tanaka in the back acts as a resounding second to the sentiment.

“Seems like the king is losing his touch.” Kageyama hears Tsukishima’s voice murmur lowly from the other side of the net. He can feel his blood pressure spiking higher already.

Nishinoya shakes him again. “Oi, you got it, Kageyama? We need your head in the game.”

“Yes,” he says, after a slow breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Let’s start again,” Sawamura calls from the other side of the net. “Everyone get back into position.”

* * *

 

“Kageyama,” Sugawara calls over to him when they’re putting the balls away at the end of practice. “Can you come over here? I want to talk to you a little bit.”

Kageyama tosses the ball in his hands over to Hinata, who unfortunately takes this as a challenge and spikes it across the gym floor

“Is something wrong?” Sugawara says, his tone and face almost an exact mirror of Kageyama’s mom from this morning when she had woken him up. “You’ve been acting a little off in practice for the past few days, and I wanted to make sure you weren’t in trouble or anything.”

“I’m fine,” Kageyama says automatically and when that's meant with an understandably skeptical look, he amends, "I think I ate something weird recently. I'm sorry it's affecting practice."

Sugawara waits for him to elaborate, but when he realizes nothing else is forthcoming, he just sighs a little and shakes his head. “Alright, if you say so,” he says, though his face is still skeptical, “but if you feel like something’s wrong or it gets worse, then just come talk to me or Daichi, if you feel like you think he’ll be better.”

Kageyama thinks about their captain for a minute, who has the ability to terrorize and intimidate while completely calm and whose arm muscles are really quite impressive due to all of the receiving he does. A slight shiver of fear runs down his spine. “I’ll come to you,” he promises, “if it gets worse.”

Just something I ate, he thinks, repeating it like a mantra over and over again until he's almost comforted by the thought. It means that it'll all be over soon. His mom makes him rice porridge for dinner when he asks; it's mild and just on the side of bland that makes him crave something salty. He eats another spoonful instead, and when he's done the meal is a soft, warm weight in his stomach.

"Feeling okay?" his mom asks after dinner. Her fingers brush away his bangs, skirting across his forehead gently.

"Better now," he says, leaning into her hand briefly. He nearly believes it, too.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the transitional chapter but things will be getting more dynamic soon! (also i hope i can get it out a little faster this time OTL). Also tentatively setting up this whole thing @ ~11 chapters (or more, but 11 is the goal for now) and with an end date goal in November! We'll see how that goes tho, haha. 
> 
> Lastly, the questions in class in the first section were taken from Persona 4: Golden (7/7 and 9/05).


	4. dream 5: the taste and sound of (18, miyagi)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) happy new year! 2) i'm sorry this took forever and ever to get done!!!! the story is def still a thing and will def (eventuallllllyyyyy) get done haha
> 
> thanks to everyone reading/commenting/etc etc!! i appreciate all of you! ♥

It’s perfect weather for eating out on the roof - the sun shining brightly with just enough of a breeze to not make the heat unbearable - but Kageyama bypasses it completely as he makes his way through the school, looking for a particular four-eyed jerk of a teammate. Tsukishima’s not going to be heading up to the roof anytime soon anyway.

By the time Kageyama finally finds him, lunch is already halfway over. Tsukishima’s tucked into the back corner of the library, right where two windows meet. The sun streaming in through the glass is a bright and warm counterpoint to the nearly frigid blast of the air conditioning.

Tsukishima’s commandeered the table back there for himself, his injured leg propped up on the chair on the chair next to him. His crutches lean up against the bookshelf behind him, blocking a vertical line of books on some dead author or another. His headphones are over his ears as usual.

“What do you want, Kageyama?” Tsukishima asks without looking up from the notes he has spread across the table’s surface when Kageyama approaches the table. From his position, Kageyama can see that they’re pages from Yachi’s notebook on other schools, every page carefully color-coordinated and filled with diagrams. 

“How did you know it was me?” Kageyama asks with a frown as he sits in the chair at the end of the table next to Tsukishima. His back is to the window, and the sunlight streaming in through the glass quickly warms his back and eases the goosebumps he had developed walking all the way through the cold library. He lets out a small sigh of pleasure that Tsukishima twitches at.

“It’s not that hard to figure out who would bother tracking me down when I don’t want to be found,” Tsukishima says will a roll of his eyes, pulling his headphones down so they rest on his neck. He casts an irritated look at Kageyama. “You don’t have to keep checking up on me, you know. What happened wasn’t your fault.” 

“I brought you a drink,” Kageyama offers, neatly bypassing the latter half of what Tsukishima’s little speech completely. Nearly three years as teammates has really helped Kageyama get better at tuning out what he doesn’t want to hear from Tsukishima, to be honest. Most of the time. Well, some of the time at least, when he’s not busy getting irritated about it. “Two drinks, actually. I didn’t know what you were in the mood for today.” He sets a carton of strawberry milk and a can of caramel milk coffee down onto the table at the small space between the edge and Yachi’s notes.

“...Thanks,” Tsukishima finally says with a sigh after Kageyama spends a straight minute looking at him expectantly. He grabs the milk coffee and nudges the strawberry milk over to Kageyama. “Drink this one. I’ve had too many strawberry flavored things lately.”

Kageyama already had a banana milk on his way over to the library, but there’s no use in letting a perfectly good carton of milk go to waste so he scoops it up and pops the attached straw through the top to take a sip.

“What were you listening to before anyway?” Kageyama’s never really cared much for music, but it feels like a safe enough topic to talk about now that he’s found Tsukishima. Volleyball would be easier, but there’s only so much he can report from practice, especially when Tsukishima’s already there watching them more times than not.

“Come here,” Tsukishima says after a moment with a wave of his hand. “I’ll let you listen to some of it if you want. You might even like it.” Surprised at this willingness to engage with him today, Kageyama obliges without argument and scoots his chair closer.

Tsukishima fits the headphones over Kageyama’s ears carefully, fingers brushing lightly against his hair. The headphones are heavier than Kageyama’s expecting, and he moves his head back and forth carefully to get used to the weight.

“This album’s a few years old now, but...it’s good music.” Tsukishima says, hitting play on his phone at Kageyama’s nod. “I listen to it on the way to competitions a lot.”

“It’s nice,” Kageyama says, carefully not flinching at the mention of competitions. Their last one is still a sore memory for most of the team, not just for the fact that Tsukishima was injured during it, though that was the worst part of the whole ordeal. “Is this the first song?”

“No,” Tsukishima says. There’s a curious little smile on his face when he says this. “It’s the ninth track, and the best one on the album in my opinion.”

* * *

 

Disappointment is already bitter on his tongue after he wakes up from another night of those ridiculous dreams, but there’s also an undercurrent of something else that Kageyama can’t quite explain. While the other dreams were mostly hazy in their aftermath, there’s just something more...tangible about this one. Something real - like it’s happened or could happen in real life. Considering that Tsukishima was injured in this dream - badly enough that even the thought of whatever happened makes Kageyama a little sick - it’s no wonder that he’s uneasy.

“I’m not really hungry today,” Kageyama says when his mom asks him what he wants for breakfast. He isn’t - not really, anyway - but it has less to with not having a physical need to eat, and more to do with the anxiety curled low in his stomach, spoiling any desire for food he may have had.

She frowns when he says that, but when he insists - and reassures her that he’s definitely going to eat something at lunch - she scoops the rice back into the cooker and doesn’t push him about it.

“You’re going to eat dinner tonight, though. No excuses,” she says with a shake of her finger. “Your father’s coming home tonight from his trip so it’ll be good for us to be able to all eat together.”

“Yes, mom.” He nods, heading bobbing quickly, though he’s not really sure that he’ll feel up to eating even then. He’s already heading towards the front door, bag slung over his shoulder. “I’m going to head off to school earlier today since I’m not eating. I should definitely beat Hinata today.”

“Okay,” she calls after him, weary. “Have a good day, sweetheart. And remember to pick something up at lunch!” 

* * *

 

By the time lunch time rolls around, Kageyama’s gotten called out in class twice for being loud even though he wasn’t talking and is pretty sure his stomach is trying to eat itself. While skipping breakfast made him feel better in the morning, he’s regretting it pretty badly right now.

He has a nikuman, melon bread, and most blessedly of all, a heaping helping of curry bread, from the school canteen all warm and ready to eat, when another obstacle emerges. Standing in front of the vending machines, money already entered, Kageyama is faced with a terrible decision. 

Milk is, of course, a key part of his diet, and sometimes he can spend up to half his lunch hour trying to decide what flavor to get, but today, there’s only one flavor he wants. He just can’t make himself buy it - especially not after last night’s dream. 

The strawberry milk (C7) sits in the middle of the vending machine right at Kageyama’s eye level. It’s only the press of a button away, but he can’t bring himself to press the number 7 to complete his order. Maybe he can press 8 for regular milk or 6 for lemon milk instead.

Strawberry milk is the one he wants, though. It should be so easy - just press the button, get the drink, and then eat. Easy. Except. There’s the whole issue of the strawberry milk in the dream. Does drinking strawberry milk in real life make the dream come true? What if it does, and he curses himself to a life where he makes Tsukishima soup and c-cares about his welfare and stuff? Kageyama’s not sure if he can risk that.

“Hey king,” a now too familiar voice calls as Kageyama’s fingers have edged away from the “7” slightly - maybe he’ll just get regular milk today?  “Are you still trying to figure out what flavor of milk to get? ‘Cause other people need to buy stuff too.”

Kageyama’s back stiffens at the sound of Tsukishima’s voice, and he startles enough that he almost hits the “9” which is the corn soup and not really something he’s ever in the mood for.

“Leave me alone,” Kageyama mutters. Ridiculously enough, he can feel worry spike through him at the sound of Tsukishima’s voice, which is stupid since _this_ Tsukishima is clearly not injured, is clearly not going to want something like - like caramel milk coffee or whatever - and is very, very clearly not going to let Kageyama listen to music through his headphones. “This is an important decision.”

“Touchy.” Tsukishima clicks his tongue at Kageyama and sighs with mock disappointment. “Just pick something and go, king. Not like it matters anyway.”

“Buy what you want from somewhere else!” Kageyama argues, turning to face Tsukishima, irritated. “There’s other vending machines around here too, you know.” He checks Tsukishima over for an injury, almost automatically. There’s none, obviously, not even a hair out of place or knocked askew. Kageyama knew that, of course, but apparently he’s really just an idiot.

“Not with coffee,” Tsukishima says, scowling. “So hurry up. Lunch is already halfway over, and I have better things to do than wait around as you spend forever debating milk flavors.”

 _Caramel milk coffee_ , Kageyama’s mind supplies and his eyes are already flicking up to A12 where the innocuous brown can sits.

Before he can think about it, and thus change his mind, Kageyama presses the “7” button and while the strawberry milk falls to the bottom, puts in enough money for the coffee at A12 and presses that button as well.

When the coffee falls down to the bottom, Kageyama pulls both of them out of the bottom of the vending machine. He tosses the coffee at Tsukishima, aiming for his chest, but instead reaching somewhere near his shoulder instead. It’s kind of a blow to Kageyama’s skill as a setter, if he’s being quite honest.

“What the hell?” Tsukishima jerks back from the sudden throw and flinches when the can nails him in the shoulder. It drops to the ground with a dull thud.

“There’s your coffee!” Kageyama almost yells, clutching the strawberry milk to his chest as he does a wide arc around Tsukishima to avoid contact with him. “I’m going to eat now, bye!”  He can already feel his ears and neck heating up and quickens his stride until he’s nearly at a run. Kageyama’s already back in the hallway and turning the corner before Tsukishima can even collect his thoughts for a retort.

* * *

 

Practice is grueling, half because of how hard Coach Ukai is pushing them and half because of how much Kageyama has to work to concentrate on the plays they’re running. It’s embarrassing how off he’s been these last few days, but he’s not going to let _Tsukishima_ of all people, even a dream version of him, ruin volleyball for him.

The issue at lunch doesn’t really help with his concentration either, but Tsukishima hasn’t confronted him about it yet (he’s been sticking close to Yamaguchi and Ennoshita for the most part today) so it’s like it never happened. It’s a small comfort that Kageyama’s not going to take for granted.

His game is almost up to his normal standards, and when he sets a toss to Hinata that’s so perfect and smooth that it leaves half the team with their jaws gaping, he even starts to feel good.

“Did you get a good night’s sleep yesterday?” Sugawara asks with a small smile when they’re taking a short break. “You’re doing a lot better today!” 

“Oh.” This is when people smile to be reassuring, right? That’s a thing, isn’t it? Kageyama tries it, forcing the edges of his mouth to pull up a little. “Sure.”

“Scary!!!” Hinata yelps when he sees. He tosses his water bottle straight in the air, causing the liquid to splatter everyone in the vicinity when it comes down. “Kageyama, what are you doing!!”

“Nothing!” Kageyama says, covering his mouth quickly. A blush is already creeping onto his cheeks. “You’re the one who made this mess, dumbass!”

“Ah, well in any case, I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Sugawara says happily. He ruffles Kageyama’s hair a little as he stands up. “I’m still up for talking if you ever need me, though.”

“Okay.” He ducks his head a little and briefly touches the spot where Sugawara’s hand used to be, slightly damp from the falling contents of Hinata’s water bottle. “Thank you.”

The rest of practice flies away in a blur of movement and loud voices. By the time he leaves the gym, the only thing on Kageyama’s mind is getting home and eating a dinner big enough for three.

* * *

 

The sun is already setting when he starts heading home, and his body is aching, in a good way, after their practice today. Kageyama feels good, happy even, right now, and there’s a bounce in his step as he makes his way past all of the usual places heading home.

The auntie at the flower shop gives him a friendly wave, and he waves back. The bar and restaurant on the other side is only now having people trickle in, and the smell of cooking meat makes Kageyama’s mouth water

He’s almost to the turn for his house when a sound catches his attention. Stopping in the middle of the street, Kageyama twitches towards the source of the noise, which is a small music shop. It’s playing some song or another from smalls speakers at the top of the store front. The windows proclaim something about a new album and signed CDs.

He stands there for nearly a minute, trying to figure out why the music is so familiar. There’s something compelling about it that’s making him stay and listen, but he’s not sure what. There’s no name or artist on the tip of his tongue, but he feels like he’s heard this song somewhere before, and recently too.

When it finally hits him, Kageyama flinches like the revelation is a physical blow. It _can’t_ be possible, but it's definitely the same song he heard last night in his dream. The one that made the Tsukishima in his dream quirk an uncharacteristically sincere smile and call it “the best one” like there was some secret about it that Kageyama wasn’t privy to.

He’s pushing open the door of the store before he realizes it, moving towards the music. The song - the ninth track of whatever album it belongs to -  is playing inside, too, louder now without the sounds of the environment to mask some of it. Its melody loops around the room, clear and stark against the almost empty store. 

“Can I help you with something?” the shopkeeper asks when she spots Kageyama standing in the entrance of the store.

“When did this song come out?” Maybe it’s just a fluke - some old song that Kageyama’s heard before and substituted into his dream somehow. “Um, the one playing right now, that is.” 

“Oh, this one? The album just came out yesterday actually,” she tells him with a smile. “I’ve been playing it all day, but this song is my favorite.” 

“Oh,” Kageyama says faintly. That’s not normal, right? Dreaming about songs that haven’t even been on the radio yet - that have just been released even. “Is it - is this song the ninth track?”

“I can check if you’d like?” she offers, and at Kageyama’s shaky nod, starts to rummage around for the CD case. “Oh, here we go - yup. Track number nine. Are you a fan?”

“Something like that,” Kageyama says. The song playing has changed to something else now, unfamiliar but clearly by the same artist. “Could I buy the album? I want to check something.”

“Of course!”

Kageyama leaves the store with the newly purchased CD hastily stuffed into his backpack and his mind working overtime. He definitely shouldn't have gotten that strawberry milk at lunch today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's some more suffering for kageyama! will things get worse next time?? (yeah) 
> 
> also as for the album, i personally like clazziquai's _blink_ or troye sivan's _TRXYE_ ep (which isn't actually long enough for story purposes but w/e), but you can substitute anything you'd like tbh. the 9th track thing is mostly a joke since kageyama's number is 9.
> 
> if you'd like, come yell at me on tumblr @yasoinabas or @karasuno!


End file.
